From The Walls
by Constant Distraction
Summary: Andromache watches from the walls as her worst nightmare unfolds: Hector fights Achilles and dies.


From the Walls

Disclaimer: I don't own Troy.

Summary: Andromache watches as Hector is killed.

A/N: I've spent two months trying to get this fic right, because I want to do justice to Hector's death. I had to see Troy four times to get the scene right (mostly because I was crying and unable to pay attention to the details) and I worked hard on this story, so I hope you enjoy it! It's written in Andromache's POV. There's a part in here somewhere that refers to her being forced to marry Hector, all I meant was that it was an arranged marriage, although it is said that she and Hector loved each other in spite of it being arranged.

Also, the words spoken between Hector and Andromache are not exactly what was said in the movie, but it should be close. I couldn't find a Troy script, all the ones I found, my computer managed to turn into gibberish while I tried to open them.

That's pretty much everything, so here it is.

I feel the early morning sun blaze across my skin, even through deep layers of sleep. I hear a quiet rustling from the front of the bedchamber, but I do not rise. Hector is here. I am safe.

Hector. I hear soft footfalls, fading as he leaves our chamber. The sense of security I wrapped myself in is gone. My eyes snap open, leaving the peaceful dream world behind.

Ignoring the light of Apollo that burns my eyes, I slide out of bed and onto my feet. The baby is awakening, slowly opening his bright eyes. I lean over Astyanax's bassinet to scoop him up and carry him to the front of the room.

The stand that held Hector's armor last night is empty, as I knew it would be. A feeling of dread pulls on me slightly. For as long as I have been married to him, I have taken great comfort in seeing his armor on the wooden stand and Hector safely behind the high walls of Troy.

I shift Astyanax to my hip and reach out with one hand to touch the empty stand. An irrational fear seizes me. Will Hector's armor rest here tonight, while he bounces our baby on his knee?

I push the thought away. I'm being paranoid. Our talk in the tunnel last night has made me unreasonably fearful.

The baby just reaches out to the stand. Humming softly to quell both his nerves and mine, I turn away and walk out the door.

The palace is quieter than it is on most mornings. The only sound is my humming. Holding Astyanax close, I step through the halls, eager to find Hector. He scared me last night, in the tunnel. His eyes were haunted as he showed me the way out of Troy, making it clear that he did not think the city would stand if Hector died.

Remembering this, I quicken my pace slightly. As I sweep into the main hall, a faint shout sounds from outside the city walls. "Hector!" A man's voice cries, and the fear I feel sits heavily in my chest. The call comes again. I wish I could not hear the hate in the man's voice.

"Hector!"

"No," I whisper. I don't know who the soldier is who waits outside the city gate, but I know his intent. It is plain in the way he shouts. He has come to kill.

I begin to run, clutching the baby tightly. Every few seconds the warrior calls again and I try to ignore his shouts. I reach the side door of the palace and race out, nearly colliding with Hector. He holds himself stiffly, and his face is grim. He is meeting the man outside the city.

"You don't have to go," I say softly, looking into his warm eyes. "You don't." I know it is useless to ask him to stay, but I want him to stay so badly.

Hector says nothing. I watch the sadness on his face, the face that enchanted me so many years ago. Suddenly it seems like all our years together have not been enough. I curse every moment I was without him, every moment we were apart. I never truly lived until I was forced to be his wife.

From his silence I see Hector is meeting the warrior in front of Troy. I shift our son in my arms, setting him up against me chest and looking at my husband expectantly. He stoops to kiss Astyanax, his lips lingering on our son's fair brow. Then he draws himself up and steps closer, embracing me. He turns his mouth toward me ear. "You don't forget what I told you," he whispers sadly, then bows his head and rests it on my shoulder.

I wrap my free arm around his shoulders, wishing I could stay in his arms forever, wishing he wouldn't fight the strange soldier. As Hector pulls away, I cling to him, breathing in his scent and trying to forget the battle ahead. At last I let go, and with one last sorrowful glance, Hector is gone.

I stand, dazed, as the sound of his walk fades. At the precise moment I can't hear Hector anymore, Astyanax starts to bawl. I fight back unexpected tears as Priam calls from above, summoning me to the stone platform that overlooks the battlefield.

I start walking up the many steps to the platform, trying to comfort Astyanax. I think of the few conversations I've had with Hector in the past days. He was busy with battles, and he was careful to remind me that he might die. I hadn't wanted to hear that, I had told him I wouldn't survive without him. I meant it.

Astyanax's crying ceases as we step onto the large stone platform. I push past members of the royal house to get to the low wall that surrounds the area. Helen and Paris already stand there. They move to make room for me, their gazes flickering over my face as I draw in a shaky breath. Priam comes up silently beside me, giving my spare hand a squeeze.

From here I can see the man who came to challenge Hector. He is tall, and wears golden armor, which glints menacingly in the sunlight. He carries a long spear, and sword, and a magnificent shield.

Hector walks out from the gate, his own sword, spear and shield grasped in his hands. The horsetail plume of his helmet floats in the breeze.

The man in gold removes his helmet and tosses in on the ground, shouting something at Hector. Hector silently removes his own helmet, freeing his tangled hair. The man in gold continues to speak to Hector, and I think he says something back, but they are too far away for me to make out what they are saying. Hector coldly takes a fighting stance.

A whisper courses through the platform. "Achilles," Helen murmurs, her voice rich with fear. She moves away from Paris and takes a step towards me.

A flood of terror races through me, but on the outside I hold my calm. Absently I bounce the baby in my arms, trying to ignore the pain that one name brings. In one day Achilles had killed my father and all seven of my brothers. I hope the gods will not let him take my husband, too.

My eyes are plastered to Hector as the fight begins. Achilles takes a stride toward him, and they begin circling each other. My heart pounds as Achilles strikes the first blow to Hector's shield. The dull crack echoes in my ears.

I watch, stiffly, as Hector and Achilles fight. They both fight well. Every time Achilles lands a blow near Hector, I respond in my mind with a phrase of controlled denial: Hector will not die.

Hector tries to spear Achilles, but his spear hits the shield instead and beaks. He drops it and immediately draws his sword. Achilles has the advantage now.

Hector will not die. Look at him, so full of life. He will not die.

Hector continues to fight with a cool, calculated menace born of honor and love for his country. But Achilles fights with a hot fury in his veins and in his movements. My mind is a blur of thrusts, lunges, and the clatter of swords and spears on shields, the music of war.

Hector's shield falls to the dirt. He runs to regain his composure before Achilles can strike, but he trips over a stone that juts out of the ground. I gasp as he falls, then realize it is the only breath I have taken since the combat began.

Achilles shouts as Hector stumbles to his feet. "Get up! Get up! I won't let a stone take my glory!"

The stiff denial I was shrouded in disappears. Hector is in so much danger. I feel weak, and lean on the wall to support myself. Helen holds my hand, and Astyanax is taken from me. I furiously wipe the tears from my eyes, and the battlefield is clear again.

Hector stands, and Achilles rushes at him. Their weapons are faster, and closer to each other now. I watch my husband thrust his sword desperately at his enemy. Hector's face is a hard mask of determination and something that looks almost like despair.

Suddenly Achilles turns and shoves his spear into Hector's heart. Helen clutches me so I won't fall over. Shock covers Hector's face, as a crimson river flows from his chest and from his mouth.

He is dying. Surely I am dying too, no one can watch someone they love so much die and not die themselves…

Hector falls to the sand, and my heart falls with him. Helen presses her face to mine, saying nothing, but crying herself. I watch Hector, even when Priam and the others look away. As Hector sputters and chokes, Achilles stabs his sword into the middle of my husband's chest. I choke on sobs and salty streams of tears. My knees buckle, but I use the wall to haul myself up. I can't see, I can't feel, I am numb, or I would be except for this black pain...

Hector is still on the sand, but now Achilles moves toward him. He ties a rope around Hector's ankles, and attaches the other end to his chariot. In my grief I do not see his intent. No one does.

And then suddenly he is moving and Hector is being dragged through the Trojan sand, his blood staining it. His strong arms trail behind him, and the sand sticks to the blood all over him, in his hair, on his skin.

A strangled wail rips itself from my throat. Behind me, Astyanax cries. I try to move, but I cannot. He was Hector's darling, and he shouldn't have to see his father's fate. I am shaking and clinging to the wall, and I can only hope our son's eyes are covered. He should not be exposed to this pain.

I am vaguely aware of Helen, crouched on the floor, and Priam roaring, clutching a sobbing Paris. The sound of our hero being dragged away must echo in everyone's ears.

When the chariot is out of sight, everyone moves at once, all fleeing from the worst moment of their lives. I snatch my son away from a nursemaid and run to the chamber Hector and I shared. I set Astyanax in his bassinet and tear wildly through the chambers, wishing some kind god would strike me down.

Maybe a kind god is with me. There are strong arms around me. Hector's arms. He leads me to the bed, and sits there, holding Astyanax and I. I can't say anything. I look into his face for a long moment, then simply cry into his neck, and feeling his own tears soak my hair.

Perhaps I am in the dream world, I think, before a gray cloud engulfs me and sends me into an empty sleep. When I wake, I am holding Astyanax, but Hector is gone.

There was one promise he could not keep, one life he could not save. Hector is gone now, truly gone for the rest of my life.

I know the ending was abrupt, but I couldn't think of a good ending, and I didn't want to take this all the way to the funeral. I hope you like this, please let me know what you thought, I worked hard on this. Thank you for reading!


End file.
